


A Life Day Miracle

by Mokulule



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Christmas Special, Don't copy to another site, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Life Day (Star Wars), Piett is a hidden badass, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Ridiculous, mostly crack though, splashes of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mokulule/pseuds/Mokulule
Summary: A few months after the Death Star was destroyed, Darth Vader gets an early Life Day present in the form of the child he'd thought he'd lost, now if only events wouldn't keep conspiring against him he would actually get to tell his son of their relation.Luke and Wedge are very confused, this is not how they expected being captured by Imperials would go.





	1. The Morning Before Life Day

**Author's Note:**

> To my dear friends who were great inspiration and encouragement, I love brainstorming with you guys <3

** Chapter 1 - The Morning Before Life Day **

 

Luke cast his gaze around with narrowed eyes; they were a dozen rebels caught, a mixture of orange-clad pilots and black ground crew, disarmed and sat on the ground; the group was surrounded by six armed, and surprisingly alert stormtroopers. He met Wedge’s worried gaze and his wingman surreptitiously shook his head. Neither had any idea how to get out of this one. 

Luke hung his head, gritted his teeth, then consciously relaxed and let loose his frustration in a silent sigh. If only his lightsaber wasn’t still in his X-wing. Why did these Stormtroopers have to be so thorough?

Suddenly something happened among the troopers, there was a flurry of activity. The guns were pointed threateningly at the rebels.

“Get up, show Lord Vader respect.”

A ripple of fear went through the rebels and Luke clenched his jaw in anger. Wedge lightly slapped his arm and sent him a warning grimace as they got back to their feet. Calm down Luke, don’t stand out. 

They were pushed into two straight rows that would have made the Imperial academy proud. The next moment Darth Vader strode into the hangar. His long strides eating up the ground impossibly fast. There was a no nonsense sort of quality to him. He stopped in front of the trooper captain, who stood at attention.

“My lord, these are the surviving rebels.”

The monstrous black helmet simply nodded in acknowledgment and took a menacing step toward the presented rebels. His gaze ran along the rows, Luke very deliberately looked at the ground, if he met that dark gaze, he was sure to give himself away.

“You are all worthless to me,” Vader began in his dark baritone. “Whether you live or die is of no consequence to me.”

He paused to let his message sink in as he paced a few steps away from them.

“There is only one thing I want from you...” He spun back around and he seemed suddenly large and looming above them; “the identity of the pilot who destroyed the Death Star!”

Luke felt more than saw Wedge tense beside him.

“Give me that and you may all go free.” 

Luke closed his eyes in resignation, there was no way he could doom his fellow rebels just for the sake of himself. He took a deep breath in preparation, looked up - and promptly released an embarrassing squeak. No less than four fingers were pointed towards him, three of the ground crew and one of his fellow pilots, the new recruit; Grant. Wedge in contrast looked like he was about to explode.

“That’s him,” the man right behind Luke, a mechanic, yelled, “that’s Luke Skywalker.”

A lot of things happened right at once.

“ **What?!** ” Vader yelled furiously. Wedge turned around towards the mechanic with a growled; “you’re dead.” And Luke grabbed onto him to hold him back.

The rookie pilot gripped by the fury in Vader’s tone squeaked fearfully; “he thinks he’s some kind of Jedi.”

_Really?_ Luke looked incredulously at Grant, and accidentally loosed his grip on Wedge. For a moment Wedge was torn between who he wanted to attack, before focusing on the nearest target and socked the mechanic. The entire group devolved into panicked shouting. 

Troopers started to draw in, hitting people. 

Luke quietly lamented; if he’d just been given one more second he would have given himself up and all of this could have been avoided.

“Silence!” Vader thundered, voice cracking down on them like a whip. And they all couldn’t help but stand at attention. 

He stepped right up to Luke and stared down at him. Luke glared back defiantly. 

“Your name is Luke Skywalker.” Vader stated.

Luke was just about to simply say, yes, when Wedge stepped in front of him protectively.

“I’m Luke Skywalker, it was me who destroyed the Death Star!” 

Luke facepalmed. “Wedge...”

“Wedge is my nickname,” he told Darth Vader with the straightest face known to man. “This is my cousin Wedginald Antilles. I don’t like the attention so we kind of switch identities.”

“Wedge please,” Luke groaned, hitting his forehead on his idiot friend’s back.

“Hush Wedginald, the grownups are talking.”

Luke promptly slapped his back a that. He looked up and studied Vader, who had been seemingly struck speechless by the idiocy. He looked at Wedge, then met Luke’s eyes across Wedge’s shoulder, then back at Wedge.

“You look nothing like Anakin Skywalker,” he stated incredulously and as if sensing Wedge’s next comment would be about taking after his mother, he shut that down immediately; “nor his wife.”

Luke felt his heart skip a beat; his mother! Vader knew who his mother was. His parents had been married!

Wedge however was determined to dig his own grave;

“I’m adopted.”

There was a beat of incredulous silence.

Vader’s suit made a strange high pitched wheezing sound. It took a moment, where Wedge looked back at Luke with a worried look, before Vader was back at his ominous hissing breath.

Vader focused back on the rebels at large, and waved a hand dismissively. “You can all go, it’s only Skywalker I want.”

He didn’t need to say that twice. With cautious glances at the watchful troopers the other rebels left for the open hangar door. 

“Wedge...”

“No.”

“Wedge,” Luke insisted.

Wedge spun around, getting close enough so that he could whisper-hiss;

“I’m not leaving you! We’re the last off Red Squadron. We stick together!”

Luke sighed. He glanced at Vader who seemed to be observing them with great interest. Then he looked back at Wedge imploringly; “you know we are likely going to be tortured and then executed.”

Wedge stubbornly returned the gaze. Then his eyes shifted and turned thoughtful. “We’re not in chains yet, though, and something weird is definitely up.”

The trooper captain, walked up to Lord Vader.

“My Lord, should we set after them?”

Luke felt a fist clench around his heart, imagining the rebels hunted down like animals. He wouldn’t put it past Darth Vader, to dangle the hope of survival in front of them only to turn back around and crush it. Wedge was tense beside him watching the captain.

Vader however seemed almost distracted. “No, they’re inconsequential. Have my shuttle prepared, and burn down the base.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Luke’s eyes widened in panic; burning down the base! His lightsaber!!

“My...” he halted himself mid sentence. Vader turned his terrible visage onto him.

“Yes?”

Luke could not admit to his lightsaber being hidden in his cockpit, could not admit to having a lightsaber at all, and as long as it was hidden there was still a chance of recovery...

“My.. ship...” He finished lamely.

Wedge jumped in beside him; “yeah, our ships! Don’t burn them down! They’re perfectly good ships. That would be such a waste.”

Vader looked at them in consideration. 

The trooper’s confusion was palpable. “My Lord?”

“Have the X-wings transported onto the Devastator.”

It didn’t really answer the captain’s real questions; Who was these rebels that they could barter with Lord Vader? That they weren’t trembling in fear at his mere presence? It did give him something to do though and so he decided to merely enact Lord Vader’s order and stop overthinking things. He saluted and went on his way.

Vader gestured to the hallway he’d emerged from.

“Start walking.”

Luke and Wedge shot each other a quick grimace (we’re so screwed!), before starting to walk. Vader was a looming, ominous presence at their heels. 

They walked through the base, seeing the Stormtroopers tear down in moments, what had taken months to get set up. It was just wrong to see the white armoured Stormtroopers flooding the place. Just yesterday this place had been bustling with multicoloured activity, all kinds of species had roamed the halls and now it was just all identical white masked troopers.

They reached the other side of the base to find a Lambda class shuttle set down in the clearing.

Their steps faltered as the reality of the situation caught up to them. A heavy, black gloved hand fell on each their shoulders, applying a firm, but not ungentle pressure, and they started walking again. Luke was strangely reminded of Uncle Owen doing the same, when he’d been a kid and needing to lead him somewhere. A quick glance towards Wedge showed, that he was similarly unnerved. 

They walked up the ramp and were greeted with a flight officer, who aside from a curious glance at their unrestrained hands and their obvious rebel affiliation, focused solely on Vader.

“Lord Vader, the ship is ready for take off. Will you be piloting?”

For just a moment Luke felt certain Vader would agree, but then he felt his searing attention at the back of his head.

“Not today, Lieutenant.”

“Very well, sir. We will be taking off immediately.”

What followed was the most awkward shuttle ride Luke had ever been on. Luke and Wedge strapped themselves into a couple of the passenger seats and Vader just stood there, staring, mostly at Luke, but there were a couple of glances at Wedge with an almost bewildered feel to them.

Luke hoped Vader would fall over due to the turbulence, only a small part of it because of him being his father’s murderer and a known tyrant, mostly he just wanted Vader to stop staring at him. The entire thing had been strange from the moment Luke’s name had been mentioned. 

To his knowledge him and Wedge were the only prisoners, and certainly not prisoners in the normal sense. Of course only complete idiots would consider escape an option under the watchful gaze of Darth Vader, and only people without actual brains would consider an escape attempt on a small enclosed shuttle with said Sith Lord onboard a viable option. Luke didn’t know if it was a sign that something was unusual with their arrest, or if he should just feel flattered they didn’t consider them brainless.

It certainly hadn’t been, what he’d been led to expect would happen, if he was ever captured by imps; the tales told of “advanced interrogation” were real life horror stories, and Vader himself had been so far off his reputation today, it was nearly laughable.He had chosen to let rebels go. There had been no violence or bouts of anger. All things considered he’d been strangely... polite was the wrong word, professional perhaps? No, that didn’t quite fit the bill either. Luke really didn’t know what to make of the situation or how to describe Vader’s strange behaviour. 

Luke could not deny it was his name that had triggered this, that it was him Vader kept staring at. Vader definitely remembered his father, knew what he looked like, and it was pretty darn obvious Vader had not bought Wedge’s bogus story. Was he imagining all the different ways he could kill the son? Or did he actually feel some remorse for killing his father, was that why they weren’t restrained? And if so what did he want with him?

All Luke knew was, that if he’d had his lightsaber in the hangar, he would have charged Vader angrily. But now, if he had his lightsaber at this moment, he’s not so sure he would attack. It was hard to hard to keep up the antagonism when Vader was so non-aggressive! If only he would stop staring.

Wedge gently bumped their shoulders together, reminding him he was not alone, and while he had a knot of worry in his stomach for his friend, it helped. He smiled gratefully and bumped back. 

 

Oo o oO

 

Captain Piett stood among his fellow bridge officers, waiting for Lord Vader’s shuttle to return. Admiral Ozzel insisted on this waste of time every time Lord Vader returned. It was the height of stupidity in Piett’s personal opinion to have half the bridge crew leave to greet their commanding officer. Piett thought privately Ozzel didn’t dare stand in front of Vader as the only officer available for strangulation. 

The shuttle was setting down in the hangar.

Piett kept his face carefully blank. There was a murmur amongst the assembled Stormtroopers, and Piett strained to hear it.

_“….pilot.. destroyed.. Death Star.” “Of course Lord Vader.. got him, nobody.. hide… Lord Vader.”_

The landing ramp set down with a hiss.

Piett looked straight ahead. This was a big day then. The pilot who destroyed the Death Star, he wondered what he would look like.

His first impression was; _orange_ \- eye searing, bright _orange_. For a moment he could see nothing but orange. It stood out so brightly against the black, grey and white around it he didn’t even realise there were _two_ rebel pilots walking in front of Lord Vader. Piett blinked, thinking he was seeing double, but there were actually two orange clad rebels. At the next second he was feeling foolish for even thinking he was seeing double, when he could actually tear his gaze away from the atrocious jumpsuits, the two rebels were different as night and day. 

The rebel on the right, the one most immediately noticeable after you got vaguely accustomed to the orange, was tall and handsome, his hair was dark and cut sensibly short and he had the bearing of someone with military training, back straight and face carefully neutral. By Piett’s estimate he was somewhere in his twenties.

By contrast the other looked impossibly young; a slight build, teenager. Wide blue eyes darted around under his fringe taking in the spectacle of the assembled troopers. The mop of floppy light blonde hair curled at the ends. His mouth was set in a nervous frown. It was obvious he was a rookie. 

It was also pretty obvious who the Death Star pilot was. The poor boy at his side caught at the wrong place and time. Both were so young, it always saddened Piett to see such young lives cut short. 

A slight frown formed at his brow when he noticed the rebels’ unrestrained hands. Of course Lord Vader could ignore protocol if he wanted, but it was there for a reason.

“Lord Vader,” Ozzel greeted.

“Admiral,” Vader returned, “I believe you have duties to attend to on the bridge.”

Ozzel near jumped at the clear dismissal and Piett had to do his very best not to smile vindictively. He was about to follow his superior along with the rest of the present bridge crew, when Vader’s words halted him.

“Captain Piett, with me.”

Piett felt a shiver go down his back at being singled out.

“Yes, My Lord.”

He grit his teeth at the smug look Ozzel sent him and followed Lord Vader.

They entered a turbolift and if Piett had been the least bit inclined to believe the rebels had successfully managed to find a way to replicate Lord Vader’s intimidating presence, he would have been worried. As it was he fielded the rebels’ curious stares with a blank face and patience. Lord Vader would enlighten him soon enough what he needed him for. As if reading his mind Vader spoke;

“I need a suitable room to put these two for now, near my own quarters,” and then almost as an addendum, in an ominous voice;“I will deal with them myself.”

Piett blinked, glancing from the rebels to Vader, something weird was definitely going on. Not to mention rooms were a matter for the quartermaster, not that Piett was about to inform lord Vader of that little detail.

“Very well my Lord. We will need to stop by a console.” It was a good thing Piett’s rank allowed him access to pretty much all the systems on board. 

 

Oo o oO

 

“I call top bunk!” Wedge cried as soon as the door slid shut behind them.

“Wha? No, that’s not fair!” Luke exclaimed then groaned, “why are you even doing that at a time like this?”

“Because there’s a top bunk to claim.” He replied simply climbing up and laying down. Luke sighed, turned around and pushed the ‘open’ button on the door panel. The door remained obnoxiously closed. 

Luke paced the room, it was actually larger than the room at the base and yet it felt like the walls were enclosing on him, stealing his breath away. The door at the far end of the room, past the two armchairs and the small circular table, led to a small refresher. He went through the drawers of both desks along the right wall, not finding a single usable piece of scrap. He clenched his shaking hands into fists.

Wedge yawned. Luke spun around and glared.

“Are you actually taking a nap?”

Wedge turned onto his side so that he could better look at Luke.

“You, farm boy, might be used to getting up with the sun-“

“Suns.”

“Whatever, point is; that battle happened way too fricking early in the morning, and we should use whatever time we have to recharge.”

“How can you be so!” Luke shook his head in frustration. “Are you not scared at all?” 

That had Wedge sitting up to look at Luke more closely.

“Luke…” He frowned in worry when his friend didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m a soldier Luke, I’ve learnt to get my sleep in any situation, at any chance…”

Silence dragged between them and still Luke wouldn’t look at him.

“Do you need a hug?”

“Wha, No!” Luke instantly protested finally looking up. “I don’t know… maybe…” His shoulders slumped. Wedge couldn’t stand to see his friend like that. He swung his legs over the edge. He had hoped that by staying calm himself he could help Luke, but he was again reminded, how new everything was to him, how he’d been swept up into the rebellion mostly by accident mere months ago. 

Despite growing up on Tatooine, Luke had lived a relatively sheltered life, something he was constantly teased about, but it also drew a great many people, Wedge included, who wanted to preserve that bright eyed wonder he had. 

He jumped down and gathered his shorter friend in his arms. Luke was tense for a moment before he hugged him back tightly, fingers digging into his back. 

“You really don’t like being locked in. Biggs used to talk about you, you know?” Wedge felt the way Luke’s attention shifted. “His crazy best friend from back home, best bush pilot there was. Accurate shot too, guess we proved that one, eh? He used to say; Luke, he’ll tell you impossible things are easy and then prove it by doing them.” Luke snorted, and Wedge continued; “but he also has his head in the sky, and will trip over a rock.”

“You’re really bad at cheering someone up,” Luke grumbled into Wedge’s shoulder.

“Am I?” Wedge mused lightly, ruffling Luke’s hair. 

“I miss him.”

“I know, me too.” Wedge sighed; “you feeling calmer?”

“Yeah, I-“

The door opened and they both looked up; Darth Vader stood silhouetted in the doorway. A black doomed interrogation droid floated in ahead of him. Wedge felt blood rushing in his ears and clenched his jaw. The reprieve was over, this was it. These quarters might be unusually far from how Imperial cells usually looked, and they hadn’t been roughed up yet, but it always came down to this. 

He felt Luke tense and try to break out of his hold.

“Let me go Wedge, it’s me he-“

“Shut up, Wedginald.”

Luke promptly stepped on his left foot. Wedge jumped away with a pained yelp. 

“Sith, Luke!” Wedge exclaimed and grimaced at his mistake.

“He knows, Wedge! There’s no reason to keep this up.” Luke turned to stare at Vader head on. With an enemy in sight Luke was transformed, his earlier moment of vulnerability forgotten. Wedge shook his head fondly, always the hero.

Vader took a step inside and the door closed with a swish behind him.

“We won’t tell you a damn thing,” Luke spat at Vader.

Vader held Luke’s gaze for a moment, then his gaze fell on Wedge, who shrugged, as if to say; whatever he said.

“The droid is for blood samples,” Vader deadpanned.

At their uncomprehending stares, he elaborated. “For confirming your identities.”

Luke crossed his arms, “You wont have any biometric data to compare mine to.”

“Oh but you are mistaken.” Vader rumbled ominously taking another step closer, forcing Luke to look up. “If you are, who your friend claimed to be, I will have someone’s to compare it to.”

“Whose?”

“Your father’s.”

_Oh no,_ Wedge thought, looking between Luke’s stunned face and Vader’s impassive mask. This would not go well.

“My father is alive?” There was naked hope in Luke’s face now. Wedge cringed at Vader’s next words;

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Luke yelled angrily.

“Behave, young one, and you will find out!” Vader returned just as angrily.

Luke glared stubbornly for a moment longer, before huffing and pulling up the orange sleeve of his flight suit to above his elbow.

“This good enough for his Lordship?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Vader growled with a raised finger.

Wedge had to fight not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It was like a ship flying too close to the deflector shields of a much larger vessel, a crash waiting to happen and he just couldn’t look away. He half expected Luke to stick out his tongue, but he had to settle with Luke deliberately rolling his eyes. 

Vader really pulled the juvenile right out of his usually well-mannered friend - and somehow Luke and him were both still alive. It should have been one sign amongst many, but as it was Wedge was just confused. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the madness.
> 
> I started writing this some days before Christmas, but while I feel it would certainly be done by Christmas this year I didn't want to wait so long to post. 
> 
> I will update something next weekend, so if it's not the last chapter of Assembly it will be the second chapter of this.


	2. The Day Before Life Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The madness continues in Vader's POV, read at your own risk...

** Chapter 2 - The Day Before Life Day **

 

Vader did not even have to look at the test results for young Luke Skywalker to know what they said. 

From the moment he entered the hangar bay that morning, his attention had been drawn to the young pilot. Despite his outwardly submissive stance and averted eyes, the force swirled around him agitatedly, not in fear, but in reaction to suppressed anger. 

Vader had been intrigued and no matter what the outcome had been that rebel would have been cause for further investigation. In hindsight it was obvious Luke had been the pilot above the Death Star, but with his obvious lack of training his force presence was nigh invisible, when he wasn’t actively using the force. 

His child was alive! He could scant believe it. He was torn between a strange elation and terrible anger at being denied all these years, and felt rather beside himself. 

It was, Vader mused, quite fortunate his son’s so called allies had ratted him out so easily. Who knows what Vader might have done to him before learning the truth otherwise. That would have been regrettable. 

Then there was Wedge Antilles, he looked at the file the rebel’s blood sample had procured for him. A defector from Skystrike Academy, the elite imperial flight academy on Montross, Antilles had had amazing grades, though his hesitation to fire on unarmed enemy craft during simulation had been noted. He’d gone on to quickly make a name for himself as a dangerous rebel pilot. 

His loyalty to Vader’s son was notably strong. His ploy to take his place, while well-meaning had been outrageously badly thought out. Vader had also probably been the worst person to try that ruse on. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself, just remembering his claim of being his adopted son.

Wedge Antilles was an enigmatic bycatch. Vader had made it clear he was only interested in the Death Star pilot, and yet Antilles had given up himself alongside Skywalker, robbing the rebels of two of their most promising fighter pilots instead of just one. Keeping his head down had been the sensible thing to do, not only for his personal safety but also for the rebel cause. Vader could only conclude that Antilles’ personal loyalty to Luke outweighed that of his loyalty to the rebel cause, a thought Vader found most intriguing. 

He very deliberately shoved the thought of another such close partnership from a more innocent time away. Then he looked down at the test result and saw the expected parental match between himself and Luke Skywalker. Looking at the results gave him an unexpected almost painful sensation in the chest area. He checked the suit readings to make sure there were no issues with his vitals. Strange, it felt like something was pressing down on his chest, yet the respirator was not registering anything unusual. 

He shook his head and decided he needed to get back to work. The sensation would surely stop. He downloaded the test results on a data stick, stuck it in a pocket in his belt for safekeeping, and deleted the original records.

 

Oo o oO

 

All conversation silenced predictably at Vader’s arrival on the bridge. Their apprehension fed into the dark side and he reveled in it. He stopped in front of the viewport and folded his arms behind his back. His audio receptors were better than any off his officers knew, and so he easily heard the cowardly Ozzel push Captain Piett to do the report.

“If you have such faith in the probe droid results, you can report them to Lord Vader yourself.”

Piett’s precise footsteps coming up behind him alerted him to the fact, that the captain had decided to do exactly that. Interesting… Vader would not have pegged Piett to have the courage to do that. Piett’s record was spotless and his work in his home sector showed his competence, yet even the most competent of officers had a tendency to quake in their boots around Vader, only those feeling unreasonably secure in their family ties didn’t (and they often regretted it). 

“Captain Piett, report.” Vader demanded, just before Piett spoke, just to see the momentary rattled expression crossing his face in the viewport reflection. 

“My Lord, I have reason to believe Crait could be a possible rebel base location. The mines were abandoned decades ago, yet life signs were detected. It is possible, it’s merely smugglers, but considering the large preexisting structures…”

Vader’s attention drifted to a hushed conversation between two analysts in the trench.

_“So what did you get your son for Life Day?”_

Something about that conversation struck Vader deep. As if from very far away, he numbly registered the captain’s subtly worried _“My Lord?”_ , but he wasn’t really listening. It was Life Day tomorrow, he realized, a day for celebrating family and life. He hadn’t had a reason to even consider the day for the last two decades… His son who, despite all odds, was _alive_ and brought to him on the day before Life Day, like in one of the multitude of Life Day holodrama’s he’d mocked in his youth. 

He wondered if Luke celebrated Life Day. He had to, not even the Emperor’s dislike of the holiday had been able stop the celebration in the wider galaxy. That started another train of thought and before he knew it, he spoke:

“What do children like these days?”

“Milord? I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right.” The deeply bewildered tone of Captain Piett brought him back to the present.

“What do you buy for Life Day presents for children these days?” Vader said turning around to face the captain. 

Piett looked at him with wide panicked eyes. 

“I sent my nephew a stuffed toy,” he said in a near strangled squeak, then tagged on as he remembered himself; “Sir.”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion but he needed more ideas.

“Bring me all the officers who’s fathered offspring, I want options.”

Piett’s eyes, if possible, became wider. Then he blinked and shook his head slightly and somehow managed to recover his prim and proper form.

“If I may make a suggestion, Milord?” 

Vader noted the nervous bob of his throat, but otherwise his composure was perfect outwardly. Vader could appreciate an officer, who could recover that well in an unexpected situation.

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“The sentients who manage the stores planetside would likely know better what they sell a lot of, Sir.”

Piett had a good point. Since the officers were on duty they likely had little to do with the actual procurement of presents. His regard for Piett rose another notch. Earlier in the day he’d chosen him for the simple fact that he wasn’t technologically challenged, and had administrative access on a personnel level, but maybe the captain’s talents were meant for greater things. He would see how he handled his next assignment.

“Excellent proposal, Captain. Set course for a nearby planet with a wide selection of goods, and prepare the 501st.”

He walked past the stunned captain, and left the bridge with his cape flaring behind him. 

 

Oo o oO

 

Little flurries of snow danced happily through the air. Multicolored lights lit up the streets as sentients merrily made their way through the crowds making their very last purchases before Life Day tomorrow. The holiday cheer made even the crowds bearable. 

At the biggest shopping mall in the capital the cheer was broken. 

It started with a steady beat, a scream, people fleeing. The beat turned into the steady march of synchronized footsteps. People stopped and looked, some turned and fled other’s pressed fearfully against the walls for ahead of the stormtroopers walked none other than Darth Vader himself. 

They stopped in the centre of the mall before the lavish fountain.

“I want the store managers, and I want them now.”

With great discipline the troopers spread out in smaller units to follow their commander’s order no matter how strange it was. 

Vader paced the square while waiting. On his second turn he noticed a bulletin board on the far wall with pieces of flimsi attached. Intrigued he walked closer. One flyer in particular stood out as a bright purple in his otherwise red vision - must be blue then. He lifted the piece of flimsi that covered half of it so that he could read it in its entirety, it read;

 

_Due to recent unrest, many animals_

_have been left without homes, roaming the_

_streets and causing trouble._

_Give these sweethearts another chance._

**ADOPT TODAY**

 

In the lower right corner was a logo with a smiling cartoon Tooka and underneath in cursive lettering it said; Sunnyside Animal Shelter. 

A thought niggled at the back of Vader’s head, an idea forming; Luke would do well with a companion…

“Lord Vader, we have the first of the managers for you.”

Vader turned around and nodded to the trooper before stalking back to the fountain. It became readily apparent the sniveling creature did not have a store Vader would want to frequent. The middle aged human decried his innocence loudly until the moment his eyes landed on Vader approaching.

“No, please don’t kill me, I swear it was only a couple hundred credits!”

Vader stopped in front off him and stared dispassionately at the pitiful criminal. He fell to his knees.

“A-a-a couple hundred thousands, but I only cheated on my tax once-” 

Vader let his right hand rest near his lightsaber. 

“-twice!” He corrected desperately. “Please don’t kill me,” he sobbed burying his head in his hands. Sensing the man was hiding no more, Vader focused on the troopers.

“Take him away.”

By the time a third manager admitted to tax evasion from his mere presence, and an underground spice ring had been uncovered, Vader was getting impatient. He still had yet to find someone who could actually tell him what would be a suitable present. He had just decided the entire endeavor had been a waste, when a young Mirialan woman was brought before him. 

“And what do you want to confess?” Vader demanded.

She looked up at him, confused and frightened; “I own a toy store?”

Vader was just about to do his intimidation routine, when the words registered as actually useful. 

“What do children want for Life Day?” He asked, finally able to ask the question he wanted.

The woman looked perplexed, but answered hesitantly anyway.

“It really depends on the age of the child…” As if sensing his impatience at the unclear answer she hastily changed tack; “perhaps you’d like to browse, Lord Vader, I have a wide selection.”

 

Oo o oO

 

Luke was lying in his bunk, the bottom one, curse Wedge, and stared unseeingly into the air.

“Do Imperials usually feed their prisoners, Wedge?”

“I don’t know, Luke. I assume so, if they want to keep them alive.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Do you think they forgot about us?”

Wedge sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments <3  
> I hope you all feel the rising madness, next chapter we'll finally get to Life Day.


	3. Life Day part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader is ready! He has everything planned, he knows exactly how he will reveal everything to Luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the delightful comments on the previous chapters<3

Chapter 3 - Life Day part 1

 

Vader had a plan. He’d found the perfect gifts. He’d thought of exactly what he was going to say to Luke, how he was going to reveal himself as his father. Everything was going to be _perfect_.

He opened the door to the rebels’ quarters and was met with a couple of sleepy gazes. Luke blinked at him, he looked downright exhausted, then focused on the bag in his hand, with a strange intensity.

“Did you bring food and water?” 

Vader froze. Food. Water. Humans needed sustenance. He had not even considered… He had been in this suit so long he had not even considered it. He could have unwittingly _killed_ his son from sheer negligence, if he’d left him for more than the day he had. 

Abruptly he turned around and walked away. Where did the crew even get their food? There had to be a mess hall somewhere, he supposed. Maybe the officers even had their own mess hall? He didn’t know! It had never mattered to him — the entire ship could be living off expired ration bars from the clone wars for all that he knew! 

Piett, he needed Piett, he could arrange something. 

 

Oo o oO

 

Somehow Captain Piett found himself escorting a protocol droid carrying a tray loaded with food and two water bottles to the rebels’ quarters. Arrange food for the rebels, Piett _. Discreetly, Captain._ The protocol droid had insisted it was illogical to carry food to unoccupied quarters and trying to reason with a droid that was so often wiped back to standards was a lesson in futility, so he’d simply ordered it to follow him. It was more discreet than carrying the tray through the ship himself at least.

If Piett got jumped by unrestrained rebels, because Lord Vader for whatever reason didn’t think they should be in a cell, Piett was going to quit the navy. The past 24 hours had been nothing, if not strange. It was not what Piett had signed up for. 

Lord Vader had always been a fearful superior to work under, but he’d always been focused on his job in a way Piett could understand. The past day, Lord Vader had been distracted and odd, his requests downright _peculiar_. And somehow Piett had been given the Life Day gift of dealing with the madness.

It would be a Life Day miracle if he got out of this mess with his neck intact.

He stopped in front of the correct quarters and looked at the door panel, with a sinking feeling in his chest. The green light was glowing instead of the red, which would have signified a locked door.

Piett took a deep breath. His hands suddenly felt clammy. Then he decidedly pushed the button to open the door. It swished aside promptly to show an empty room. _Alright, Firmus Piett_ , he thought to himself, _all is not yet lost, you’re still breathing_. He systematically went through the room, looked up and checked nobody was hiding between the ceiling beams, he checked the fresher and noted that all ventilation grates were still firmly attached. He turned to the door that had been left unlocked. There was only one way they could have gone.

Piett did not look forward to informing Lord Vader, but opened his comm anyway.

 

Oo o oO

 

_Earlier…_

 

Luke sat up in a flash. Vader had simply turned around and walked away, and he hadn’t closed the door!

“Wedge!”

“I see it!” Wedge jumped down his bunk, and grabbed Luke’s hand to pull him to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Give me a moment to get my boots back on.” Because unlike Wedge, _the savage_ , Luke didn’t bring his boots to bed.

“This is how we know you’re a rookie, never take off your boots in enemy territory.” Wedge grabbed first one and then other boot from where Luke had set them nicely by the door and threw them at his face. 

“Hardy har har,” Luke caught the boots, “you try getting sand out of your bed once it’s gotten in there.” He quickly stepped into them and tied them passably. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“Aye aye, Lieutenant Commander, just waiting for you, Sir,” Wedge grinned and dodged the punch Luke threw at him on their way out of the door.

“I still have no idea what High Command was thinking,” Luke mumbled, as they turned right down the hallway, opposite direction of Vader. 

Wedge threw an arm over his shoulder. “They felt their poster boy hero should hold a proper rank.” 

Luke pushed his so called friend away with a grimace of pure exasperation. 

“Do you remember the way to the hangar?” Luke asked as they ran down the hallway.

“Eh, not perfectly, but unlike you, I was actually in training to become an Imperial fighter pilot, so I know the basic layout of a Star Destroyer.” 

They turned a left and then another right. Luke suddenly grabbed Wedge and pulled them into a shaded corner.

“Wha?” 

Luke hushed him and whispered, “Someone’s coming.”

“How can you know?” Wedge whispered back.

“I just do, now shush.”

It took a moment, but soon Wedge could hear footsteps. It was the severe looking captain from yesterday walking briskly in the direction they came from, behind him was a protocol droid carrying a tray of food, Wedge noted the two water bottles the same moment Luke did. They looked at each other; their escape was about to be discovered. The halls would soon be crawling with stormtroopers. They didn’t have much chance of blending in with their current attire.

They both looked around for options. They needed to leave the obvious path. Luke touched his shoulder and pointed upwards to a ventilation grate that looked a bit bent out of shape. Wedge grimaced but nodded; it was gonna be a tighter fit for him than Luke but not a bad plan. He gave Luke a leg up. 

They both flinched at the noise made when the grate came loose. Luke turned the grate around and laid it down inside the shaft. Luke climbed inside and somehow managed to wiggle back around so that his head stuck out the shaft, he reached down to Wedge and grabbed his hand pulling him up. There was no way to gain purchase on the wall and so he was fully dependent on Luke’s strength until he himself could grab the edge of the vent.

Luckily Luke was stronger than his slight frame indicated. Soon they were both inside of the vent, but they had no way of putting the grate back in place. They couldn’t move past each other in the tight space and Wedge had no way of turning — because he wasn’t a Sith-spawned contortionist! _How, Luke?_

They dragged themselves through the vents, choosing the turns by the whims of Luke’s strange sixth sense. Luke halted suddenly. Underneath them sounded rapid synchronized footfalls, stormtroopers. Wedge held his breath. They had to be right above a hallway, absolutely helpless in case of discovery. It felt like forever before the sound of the troopers faded into the distance and they both breathed easier. 

Wedge was tiring from the exertion of worming through a space too small for him. The roof of his mouth was dry and sticky from not having a single drink in an entire cycle and the crawl space was rife with dust, whirled up by Luke. He sneezed and grimaced with disgust, when he only managed to whirl up more dust. 

“Remind me not to follow your ideas ever again.”

Luke chuckled, “It’s not that bad.”

“How about you grow a few inches and get back to me on that?”

Luke definitely kicked back harder this time on purpose. 

Wedge coughed from the sheer amount of dust. “I’m revoking our friendship.”

“Sure thing, Wedginald.”

“That is the name of my most honored great grandfather, don’t mock him.” Wedge breathed slowly through the nose. They took another left turn, a pipe cut the crawl space in half and Wedge had to squeeze himself through.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I’m looking for something.”

Wedge frowned; “what could you be looking for if not the hangar?”

Luke paused and looked out a grate on the left wall. The light falling in revealed the way his face lit up in a satisfied smile: “This.”

He turned around so that he was tucked into a ball, feet against the grate and back against the wall. Wedge grimaced at the uncomfortable looking position. He pushed against the grate, and it slowly gave up the fight with a drawn out groan of metal on metal as the screws came loose. The grate came loose, it was only a fraction of a second, before it clattered to the floor; not too high off the ground then.

Luke pushed himself out feet first and dropped to the floor softly. Wedge kicked himself up to the opening using the corner, and looked out: It was a mess hall. It was obvious the occupants had left in a hurry, the food and drinks left on the tables - Luke and Wedge were probably the reason for the interrupted meals. 

Luke walked around shaking canteens haphazardly. 

“What are you doing? Wedge hissed.

“We’re gonna need water.”

Feeling the dryness in his mouth, Wedge knew Luke was right, not much point in escaping with no rations, but he didn’t like Luke out there in the open. Worry gnawed at his gut. 

“Just hurry.”

It was when Luke stood in the middle of the mess hall, as exposed as he could be, the captain from earlier suddenly stood in the doorway.

“You!” The captain exclaimed. He drew his sidearm and advanced on Luke.

“Ah, Captain Piett!” Luke waved with a smile, “fancy meeting you here, how are you?”

Wedge sighed long-sufferingly; of all the times to be channeling Han Solo.

The captain heard him and his head swiveled to lock eyes with Wedge. He swallowed dryly, they were both discovered. The captain leveled his blaster at Wedge. Instinctively he wiggled backwards, but he knew he had no way to get out of the way in time. 

Luckily for Wedge, unluckily for the captain, Luke was fast. 

Luke crashed into the man’s stomach and pushed him to the floor, effectively taking his attention off Wedge. Focusing on getting out instead of the scuffle, Wedge wiggled the best he could and slid out of the ventilation headfirst. He tried to flip in midair, but only managed halfway and landed on his back. He groaned in pain. There was no time to lament his poor tail bone or his head however; he had to help Luke. He rolled to his feet.

The captain was vicious in close combat, a rarity amongst most imperial officers who usually held their rank because of family connection, and it seemed Luke’s only advantage had been surprise. Luke’s lack of training showed through clearly. It was currently a struggle for Luke not to get pinned. 

Wedge noted the blaster that had fallen to the floor and went for it. 

He aimed the blaster at the captain currently sitting on top of his friend’s back. He noted with interest it was set to stun. 

“Where you from Captain?” He asked conversationally. 

The captain froze and looked up. His sharp gaze instantly calculated the threat. His hold on Luke’s right arm, which had been wrenched behind his back tightened, and Luke grimaced in pain. 

“Axxila,” he answered Wedge tightly.

Wedge whistled, impressed. “And despite that, you made it all the way to captain. That’s quite the accomplishment.” Wedge’s face lost the friendly facade. “But now I think you want to get off my friend.”

It took a moment for the stubborn bastard to accept he didn’t have much choice. He very deliberately let go of Luke and raised his hands before standing up. 

Luke quickly scrambled away from between his legs and got to his feet at Wedge’s side. He rolled his right shoulder with a grimace. Wedge spared a quick glance to check Luke over for damage. He was going to have a nice bruise around his left eye, Wedge noted with amusement. Wedge did appreciate Luke distracting the captain but close combat really wasn’t his forte. 

“Nice shiner.”

“Shut up. As if you could do better.” Luke returned sourly.

“I don’t fight like a drunken nerfherder, at least.” 

The captain’s left eye twitched in annoyance, and Wedge grinned. 

“I think you will show us the way to the hangar, won’t you captain?”

“I suppose that would be the best way to get rid of you,” the captain returned dryly. 

Luke barked out a short laugh in delighted surprise, and Wedge himself couldn’t help his smile. He wasn’t too bad, for an Imperial. 

 

Oo o oO 

 

Piett had had **enough.** He was going to resign — if he survived that was. 

Of course Piett had been the one unfortunate enough to actually find the rebels, his hunch that they might make a pitstop at one of the mess halls proven correct. Really he should have just gone back to the bridge. Nobody would have blamed him for going to his station, in fact people would have expected it. Instead he couldn’t help but test his theory, a theory he was just sure Ozzel would have shot down, like he did everything else. Piett had been _right_ , but in this instant he could have lived with the disappointment.

The rebels were bickering lowly behind him as they walked, Piett to steps ahead of the blaster he had no doubt was still pointed at him, they were not that stupid, though they could have fooled Piett.

“How do you intend to run with that much water?” 

Ah yes, the obvious rookie had scurried around finding unopened water containers before they’d moved along, and he had his arms full.

“Won’t matter if we escape only to die from thirst.”

Piett supposed he did have a point, though they were not going to escape. As if the hangars would not be crawling with Stormtroopers by now to prevent that exact thing. It was the most logical move to block the exits after all.

“Water obsessed desert farm boy.”

“Half-baked offworlder.”

“Bantha breath.”

“Laserbrain!”

“Oooh, did Princess Leia teach you that one?”

Piett quietly despaired; children, they were actual _children_. Piett did his best to tune out their contest of who could come up with the most creative insult. He would admit it had been smart of them to enter the ventilation system. It was a good hiding place, even if it was more likely to have gotten them lost or stuck than successfully escape. 

“Hide,” the rookie suddenly hissed. Next thing Piett knew, a hand clamped down over his mouth and he was dragged backwards into a shadowy alcove. The head of his own blaster dug uncomfortably into the small of his back. He debated the merits of biting the hand out of sheer annoyance, but he didn’t know where it’d been, and it was bad enough to have it over his mouth; it was _sweaty_.

It wasn’t long before Piett heard marching feet coming closer. Piett was astonished. He had heard a sound to indicate the incoming troopers. The regular, synchronized beat of their boots was eerie, and Piett found himself instinctively, irrationally holding his breath as they passed.

Once the sound of marching troopers faded into the distance, they continued on. Piett wracking his brain for an explanation for how they’d known the troopers were coming, while the rebels resumed their pointless bickering; this time over the merits of X-wings versus Tie-fighters, though it was pretty obvious they both agreed that X-wing were better. They were arguing for the sake of arguing. They were nervous, Piett realized, and with good reason, they really had zero chance of escape. The only thing Piett felt was undecided at this point was wether he would end up as collateral. 

Another three times of easily avoiding troopers and oncoming officers because of the rookie’s warnings, and Piett was dying to know how he did it. Was there some kind of weakness in their security system? But he hadn’t seen them access a terminal even once. It was simply inexplicable. He seemed like a regular baseline human, nothing about his appearance suggested otherwise.

“I have no idea, how you’re doing this, Luke, but keep doing it!” 

Piett could practically hear the grin in the other rebel’s voice. 

He noted the name, Luke, with the information he’d already gleaned from context, like him hailing from a desert world, where he’d likely been a moisture farmer, and how he might be close to the princess Organa. He had no formal combat training, as Piett had discovered from personally facing him. It made him wonder if the rebels did nothing to prepare their operatives. He really hoped the kid actually knew how to pilot. 

Already his opinion of the Rebels were low, he certainly didn’t hope these two were representative of military discipline in the Rebellion. Otherwise the Empire’s losses were a lot more embarrassing. 

They were nearing Hangar 01, the largest hangar situated in the belly of the star destroyer. It was where the troop carriers were lined up along with the Lambda shuttles, including Lord Vader’s personal shuttle. 

Piett wondered at their plans once they reached the hangar. In the off-chance the hangar wasn’t crawling with stormtroopers, the only lightspeed capable small crafts on the Devastator were the Lambda shuttles and they were hardly maneuverable. By the time they’d calculated a jump, they’d have been shot down by the TIE patrols of Devastator herself. 

It was only minutes later they reached the hangar doors, in one way or another he would soon be rid of the rebels. They opened the doors and Piett stopped in the doorway, he could not believe it! Not only was the hangar empty of personnel, but standing innocently by the far wall between lambda shuttles were a couple of X-wing fighters. What were rebel aircraft doing aboard his ship!

A poke in the back forced him forward. His thoughts raced in internal panic. X-wing fighters were both maneuverable and lightspeed capable. Piett’s eyes flickered frantically from side to side, searching for a way to stop them. There wasn’t anything Piett could do! Why was there never any bloody maintenance workers when you needed them? Behind him he felt the rebels’ moods lift considerably at the sight of their ships. Piett could hear the bounce in their steps and the barely held back relieved laugh in their breaths and they pushed forward faster.

If they took off in those ships, they could actually do it. They could escape!

 

Oo o oO

 

They’d made it, they’d actually made it! Wedge shared an excited grin with Luke, elation bubbling in his chest. In front of them was their salvation: their trusty X-wings.

“We did it,” Luke whispered excitedly. His smile fell and he slowed down slightly. “I don’t see Artoo…”

Wedge grimaced. He didn’t want to tell his friend that the droid had probably been lost at the base. Wedge knew Luke was unusually attached to that specific R2 unit, now just wasn’t the time. The important thing was that it was actually possible to fly their X-wings unassisted.

“Worry about your droid later, Luke. Right now the important thing is getting out.”

“Yeah, sorry Wed-…” Luke suddenly stopped dead.

Frustration welled in Wedge’s chest and he grabbed the captain and held him back. The ships were right there! They were almost free.

“What now, Luke?” He snapped turning his head to face him.

Luke had a strange unsettled expression on his face, he didn’t react like he’d quite heard him.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

Wedge shook his head reflexively, denying it. Freedom was right there. 

“This is not the time Luke, we’re so close. Can we please move on?”

Luke blinked and focused properly on Wedge. He spread his arms indicating the hangar.

“Don’t you find it strange there’s not a single person working in this hangar? It’s like it’s a-“ He cut himself off when suddenly familiar regular hissing ominously filled the previously silent hangar. Heavy steps walked across the floor.

“Your instincts are strong, young Skywalker,” Darth Vader rumbled darkly as he walked forward from between their X-wings, where he’d been waiting for them.

No! They were so close! Wedge glanced quickly from Luke’s tense glare to Vader’s slow approach. If he didn’t do something, knowing Luke, he would probably try to fight Vader bare-handed (and that had gone real well with the captain hadn’t it). 

In a split second decision he grabbed the captain in a solid hold against his body and dragged him in front of Luke. Demonstratively he set the barrel of the blaster against the captain’s temple.

“Another step and the captain dies.”

Vader took another step.

“I mean it!” He hated the way his voice trembled and pressed the blaster firmer into skin.

“Don’t be obtuse,” the captain hissed, “Lord Vader cares not a lick for my fate. Just give up.”

Vader took another step and Wedge stepped them all backwards. Desperately he searched for a way out. Even if they could get to the ships, they would not be ready until they’d run the preflight routines!

“Killing an unarmed man, Antilles…” Vader mused with dark satisfaction as he kept his steady advance, “it would seem the rebels managed to teach you what the Academy couldn’t.”

“Shut up!” Wedge tightened his grip on the blaster. He was very aware of the trigger right underneath his right index finger. He felt weak in his legs, short of breath.

“Wedge…” Luke’s voice was low with worry, a comforting hand settled on his back. His shoulders raised in tension. They had been so close. Every cell in his body fought against the very idea of surrendering. It felt like dooming Luke all over again. Like handing Luke over to Vader by his own hand. 

Wedge had killed plenty Imperials, as a pilot and on the ground in a firefight, but never like this. He had never killed anyone, who had surrendered, unarmed at his mercy. He could still hear his Academy instructors berating him for hesitating, when asked to shoot down unarmed carriers in the simulators: _“Your job is to follow orders, Antilles!”_ _“Don’t think just shoot!”_

“Do it, Antilles!” Vader thundered. Wedge jumped, nearly making the blaster go off from sheer fright. His hands shook. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood. The captain was tense in his hold, but remarkably calm otherwise, Wedge could use some of that calm. He grit his teeth in frustration, head hurting from the tension. Vader had nearly backed them back to the hangar door.

Wedge closed his eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, trying to think. He was out of options. Vader had called his bluff. He didn’t care what happened to the captain. He opened his eyes, there was nothing left but surrender. Slowly he lowered the blaster, his gaze fell on the settings. His eyes narrowed.

“How disappointing,” Vader rumbled.

Wedge smiled. This was gonna hurt.

In one fluid move he pressed the blaster against the captain’s right shoulder blade and pulled the trigger. Vader halted in sheer surprise and Wedge took his chance and pushed the captain at Vader, before he could fall over. He didn’t stand to watch, he spun on his feet, pushing a shocked Luke around to face the still open entrance.

“Luke, RUN!”

Wedge dove for the door panel, hitting the button, and changed direction. His heart pounded madly in his chest. He jumped over the edges of the rapidly closing blast doors. He easily caught up to Luke. The fool had slowed down to wait for him.

“Run!”

“Did you just kill the captain?!” Luke asked wide-eyed. 

Wedge didn’t know what to say for a moment. This was not the time. “No I stunned him. Less talking, more running!”

They only got about 20 yards further down the hall, when they were suddenly slammed against the right wall by an invisible force. Wedge desperately blinked the stars away from his vision. They were just held there, flattened against the durasteel wall by that invisible force, a foot off the ground. 

Vader leisurely made his way to the them, hand outstretched. Beside him, Luke struggled against the invisible trappings. For a moment He seemed to give up, relaxing and closing his eyes. Then a small frown formed on his brow and for just a fraction of a second he seemed to come free, falling towards the floor. Then he was grabbed again and pushed firmer against the wall, through no apparent effort on Vader’s behalf.

Vader stood in front of them now, he crossed his arms. Luke glared up at him. Wedge was tired. 

“Your tenacity, though commendable, is futile.” Vader paused, just looking at them, though mostly at Luke, what was the deal with his obsession with Luke anyway?

“I am going to release you now and you’re going to walk calmly back to your room, are we clear?”

They stayed sullenly silent.

“ _I_ _said,_ are we clear!” The volume rose and the pressure increased, making it suddenly hard to draw breath. They nodded frantically. The pressure let up instantly and they fell to their knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah the angst kinda won here in the end... I promise you crack and then I do this, for shame!
> 
> I'm sorry guys, somehow this story wants to be longer than I intended. Figured it's better to split the chapter than for you guys to wait several months for an ending... Honestly don't know how many parts there will be to Life Day, hopefully only one more, though there might be a "the day after Life day" epilogue type chapter.


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